


3 a. m.

by Nea



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 19:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nea/pseuds/Nea
Summary: Happens during episode 310. The case brings back sad memories





	3 a. m.

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's note:** All my gratitude goes as always to [irenesides](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irenesides) for her beta.  
>  **Author's note 2:** Slash, written for de_bingo‘s prompt _to sleep/sleeping_  
>  **Warnings:** Spoiler for episode 310, partly angsty and sad  
>  **Disclaimer:** The guys belong to each other, Dick Wolf and Co.

Jay hates this case. The oncologist who treated Voight’s wife for cancer turned out to be responsible for at least three deaths and dozens of women had to suffer from unnecessary chemotherapy, due to his fake diagnosis.

This case shakes Voight and Lindsay to the core and there’s nothing Jay can do about that. He doesn’t know, doesn’t want to know what he would do in Lindsay’s and Voight’s stead.

He’s barely slept since they talked to the patients. Since he heard about what they went through. It immediately brought back the memories of his mother’s last months. How she got weaker and weaker every day and constantly asked for Will. Will who was God knows where, while he, Jay, had to handle this all alone...

He hates that he’s still bitter about it. Will suffered too, he knows. His little brother still gets himself in trouble each time he has to let a cancer patient go.

Jay shakes his head a little as he slowly takes a glass out of the squeaky kitchen cabinet. He fills it with cold water and downs it quickly, hoping that it will wash away those memories.  
It doesn’t. It only makes him more awake as he stares out of the kitchen window into the darkness.

He turns around when he sees motion reflected in the window pane and there’s Mouse standing in the door frame, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. "It’s three am. Can’t sleep again?"

"Yeah..." Jay just looks at him and sees that Mouse knows why.

He’s been there for Jay, after all. Not in person, but on the phone, which made it easier, somehow. 

Jay would curse the cancer, his father, and Will. Or pray and bargain, sometimes, when he was too drunk or not drunk enough, he can’t say. Mouse listened to all of it, over and over, whenever they spoke. Even though he had more than enough on his own plate, with the PTSD and all its hellish extras that he brought home from Afghanistan.

"Mind if I keep you company?" The second half of Mouse’s question is nearly swallowed by a yawn, as he comes closer.

"You always did," Jay says, to his own surprise. He actually planned to tell Mouse to go back to bed.

Mouse’s standing right in front of him and when he takes the glass out of Jay’s hand to put it aside, his fingers brush Jay’s. 

"And I always will." He sounds firm and awake now, even though he was almost sleep-walking a minute ago. He sounds serious, too.

That’s his Mouse – always full of surprises. This thought, this realization always makes Jay smile, and this time is no exception, even if it’s more of a hinted smile.

"I know." He ruffles Mouse’s messy bedhead and strokes his cheek with his thumb. "And now please go back to bed. You look like you’re about to fall asleep on the spot."

"Yeah, no..." Mouse scratches his head. "I’m going if you’re going." 

Taking Jay’s hand in his own, he leads him to the bedroom. And Jay follows.


End file.
